


Harry Potter and the Death Eaters' Spy

by eadreytheiptscray



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Dark Hermione Granger, Everything Hurts, Gen, If Voldemort Was the Dread Pirate Roberts, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-01-19 11:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12409743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eadreytheiptscray/pseuds/eadreytheiptscray
Summary: Though wiser than most wizards before him, Albus Dumbledore had been wrong about Tom Riddle. On the night Harry Potter's parents were killed in Godric's Hollow and the Killing Curse rebounded, the great wizard had indeed died--but Voldemort had not. Another wizard soon took Tom Riddle's place as the now-immortal Lord Voldemort.Seventeen years later, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione search for the horcruxes that Dumbledore assumed would weaken Voldemort's power, they discover that their search had been in vain--and that one of their closest friends has been harboring a dark secret.





	1. Shell Cottage

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic pulls primarily from the events of the Harry Potter novels by JK Rowling. However, the content deviates drastically from the canon of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having narrowly escaped the Death Eaters at Malfoy Manor, Harry, Ron, and Hermione decide to reconnect with Dumbledore's Army at Hogwarts. What they don't realize is that one of their closest friends is a spy for the enemy.

Surf crashed against the sand. Seagulls cried to each other in the dawn's pink and gold skies. Salt air filled the cottage with hints of summertime. But the sea had no calming effect on Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Still jittery from their narrow escape at Malfoy Manor, the trio couldn't help but wonder whether their relentless search for Horcruxes had been in vain. All they had to show for months of roaming the countryside was a broken locket, the Sword of Gryffindor, and more scrapes and bruises than they cared to admit.

Hermione scratched absently at the bandage on her neck, covering the prick from Bellatrix Lestrange's knife. Unwelcome memories flooded back--Bellatrix's wicked grin, Greyback's hungry gaze, Ron's desperate shouts, her own helplessness. She shuddered.

Behind her among the dunes, Harry and Ron discussed in undertones what to do next.

"We're getting nowhere," Ron was saying. "We're no closer to finding the other Horcruxes than we were three months ago!"

"Well, what do you suggest?" Harry snapped. "Sorry," he muttered a second later. He didn't want his best friend leaving in a fit of anger. Not again.

"You heard Bellatrix when she thought we broke into her vault. What if there's a Horcrux in there?"

"There are no Horcruxes," Hermione said.

Harry and Ron whirled around. "What?"

"There are no Horcruxes."

"So you're saying Dumbledore lied to us?" Harry said impatiently.

"Not exactly." Hermione slowly stood, brushed sand off of her clothes, and joined them among the dunes. "You-Know-Who never made Horcruxes, but Dumbledore didn't know that. He only assumed that was the case since You-Know-Who returned after the Triwizard Tournament."

"You're just telling us this now?" Ron nearly shouted.

"I… Bellatrix said so while she was torturing me," Hermione replied, "at Malfoy Manor."

Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Does this mean we've been on a wild goose chase the whole time?" Harry clarified.

Hermione nodded.

Ron swore loudly; Harry clenched his fists, the blood pounding in his ears.

"What do we do now?" Ron muttered, trying to control his rage.

"I was thinking we could go back to Hogwarts, reconnect with Neville and other members of the D.A. The objects Dumbledore was after might not be Horcruxes, but they are still important to You-Know-Who."

After a moment, Ron and Harry agreed. "Let's tell the others," Harry said. "We'll take Ollivander and Griphook somewhere safe. Luna and Dean can come with us if they want."

As Ron and Harry sauntered up to the cottage, Hermione trailed along behind, dread turning her insides into concrete. She couldn't continue to lie to her best friends, but what choice did she have? Voldemort had her parents, and working with the Death Eaters was the only way she could keep them alive.


	2. The Elder Wand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Ron, and Hermione—along with Dean and Luna—prepare for their return to Hogwarts. Just when Harry thinks they'll be able to grab the Elder Wand in time, You-Know-Who arrives on the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several portions of this chapter are taken verbatim from "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows," particularly Harry and Ron's discussion of the Elder Wand.

"Getting into Hogwarts won't be easy," Hermione said. "We have to assume that You-Know-Who has guards at all the secret passageways, dementors patrolling the grounds, and Death Eaters keeping a close watch on the students. It's probably not safe to Apparate near the school, either."

"Blimey, Hermione, you've thought of everything," Ron muttered with a mouthful of toast.

Hermione blushed, but pangs of guilt kept her from smiling.

"But it's safer on foot, yeah?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. "As safe as it can be."

The night before, the trio had stayed up late talking with Luna and Dean about returning to Hogwarts. Despite only recently escaping from the Death Eaters at Malfoy Manor, their two friends seemed ecstatic to risk their lives if it meant bring Voldemort down once and for all. As for Ollivander and Griphook, they had been moved to Ron's Aunt Muriel's house, much to Fleur's delight—she was not particularly fond of the goblin.

Across the breakfast table, the five friends stifled yawns. None of them had slept well the night before, particularly Harry. All thought of Horcruxes had vanished from his mind after Hermione's unexpected news. Thoughts of the Deathly Hallows, however, kept him awake most of the night. Dumbledore had the Elder Wand, and if Harry could return to Hogwarts before Voldemort...

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Hermione asked Luna and Dean.

They nodded. "We want to help," Luna said over her tea.

"We're not going to leave you to find those relics on your own," Dean added.

It wasn't long before they had finished their breakfast, said goodbye to Bill and Fleur, and set out for Hogwarts. They felt safe Apparating to a remote corner of the country several miles from the school grounds; from there, they would walk the rest of the way.

For the most part, the trek was silent, leaving Harry free to think about the Hallows. He had the Cloak. He had the Stone, which was hidden inside the Snitch. All he needed was the Elder Wand, and he would become the master of Death...

Gregorovitch once had the Elder Wand, he knew—the latest glimpse into Voldemort's mind told him that. Grindelwald stole it, but then he lost the Elder Wand to Dumbledore in the duel. And now the wand was resting with Dumbledore's body back at Hogwarts. How he would open the marble tomb, he didn't know, but he would come up with something.

Luna and Dean led the pack through the meadow, Ron and Hermione falling a few paces behind. Harry caught up, tugging gently on Ron's shirt sleeve.

"You alright, Harry?" Ron asked. Hermione turned, too.

Harry nodded, motioning for them to pause. He let Luna and Dean walk a few paces further before starting up again. Still, he kept his voice low.

"Before Ollivander left, I asked him about the Hallows."

Ron stared at him, his eyes lighting up; Hermione fought hard against rolling her eyes. Couldn't he see that searching for the Hallows was worthless?

"And?" Ron asked.

"He said he didn't know what I was talking about."

Ron's face fell.

"But I saw who had the Elder Wand last," Harry continued. He explained the latest of Voldemort's visions to them, fully aware that another threatened to take over. He held it at bay. "Gregorovitch had the Elder Wand a long time ago. I saw You-Know-Who trying to find him. When he tracked him down, he found that Gregorovitch didn't have it anymore: It was stolen from him by Grindelwald."

"How did he find it?" Ron asked.

"I don't know, but considering Gregorovitch was stupid enough to tell everyone that he had it, it can't have been that difficult."

Here he stopped because they had just laid eyes on Hogsmeade. Luna and Dean turned around, waiting for the trio to catch up. Hermione broke away from Ron and Harry, busying herself with protection spells— _Protego Totalum_ , _Salvio Hexia_ , _Cave Inimicum_ —to keep herself from spilling all the damning secrets that she knew.

Growing up in the Death Eaters' shadows, it was impossible not to soak in all of their hidden knowledge, a knowledge that would give her away as an impostor the moment she spoke to any other wizard. The Hallows, for instance. No matter how much she protested that Ron and Harry focus on finding Voldemort and set aside all thoughts of the Hallows, she had no doubts that the Hallows existed. And that Voldemort would stop at nothing to find them.

No Muggleborn, not even one as clever and learned as Hermione, should know _what_ the Hallows were, much less that they would truly make one the master of Death. Of the few wizards who had tried to unite the Hallows, most had failed. As determined and stubborn as Ron and Harry were, two teenagers couldn't possibly find in a few weeks what it took some wizards lifetimes to discover. Besides, killing Voldemort was their goal. Nothing else mattered.

Harry took first watch that night, unable to sleep with the pain radiating from his scar. As midnight rolled into early morning, he stayed up with Ron, discussing in undertones what they should do next.

"Dumbledore had the Elder Wand?" Ron whispered incredulously. "But then—where is it now?"

"At Hogwarts," Harry replied, massaging his forehead to keep the pain to a minimum. What he had been trying to rein in all day was bubbling to the surface: another vision.

"But then, let's go!" Ron cried, jumping to his feet, all thought of watching the campsite banished from his mind. "Harry, let's go and get it before he does!"

A wave of nausea swept over Harry as he was transported to Voldemort's point of view. The deserted, darkened street through Hogsmeade greeted him as he watched Voldemort saunter through the town, not two miles from their perch.

"It's too late for that," Harry said, crestfallen.

Ron balked at him. "How can you be sure?"

Voldemort was now at the gates, walking silently beside Snape, whose lantern bobbed seemingly on its own through the darkness. Snape opened his mouth to speak, but his words were drowned out by Hermione, who had just emerged from the tent.

"Harry! Are you alright?"

Harry felt Ron and Hermione drag him off the grass into a sitting position.

Snape had said something that pleased Voldemort, but he couldn't be sure of what he was hearing; in between Ron and Hermione's concerned murmurs, he thought he heard Bellatrix Lestrange cackle.

"The Elder Wand," Harry mumbled, reining in his murky thoughts. "He knows where it's hidden. He's at the lake now."

Now that Harry was coming to, Ron rounded on him. "Harry—how long have you known? Why have we been wasting our time? We could have gone—we could still go—!"

"No." Harry shook his head. He had seen all that he needed to see: Voldemort splitting open Dumbledore's tomb, casting aside his old wand for the Elder Wand, and sending a spray of sparks into the sky. "You-Know-Who has it now."


	3. The Return to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Dean are prepared for the dangerous trek through Hogsmeade to get to Hogwarts. What they don't realize is that they're walking straight into a trap.

Now more than ever, Harry was grateful to have Hermione on their side. The coins she had charmed back in their fifth year had come in handy: Hermione used hers to summon the remaining members of Dumbledore's Army to the Room of Requirement, where the trio hoped that their friends still at Hogwarts would rally around them.

Hermione had also been right about the precautions Voldemort had taken with the school. Dementors indeed were drifting in and out of sight around the school grounds. Twice Harry thought he spied black-clad figures pacing up and down in front of the gates to Hogwarts.

"We'll get in through Hogsmeade," Harry had decided after everyone had woken up. "We need to see what the protection around the school is like before we decide to make a break for it. Hermione has already summoned the D.A., so they know we're coming."

Luna, Dean, Hermione, and Ron looked at him expectantly, their eyes glimmering with hope. Now that they were closer to Hogwarts, their mission became clearer. But with Voldemort in possession of the Elder Wand and the school under his direct influence, getting into the school, much less finding the founders' artifacts, seemed next to impossible.

"We'll go when it's dark," Harry continued. "I still have my Invisibility Cloak. Luna, Dean, if you could keep watch—"

"No way," Dean interrupted, crossing his arms. "I didn't come this far to stay put."

"We're behind you all the way," Luna agreed.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but the steeled looks on their faces said it all. There was no persuading them.

"Fine. But I want us to stick together."

"But Harry, all five of us won't fit—" Hermione protested.

"It will be dark. No one's going to notice our feet."

There was no stopping Harry and Ron from going to Hogwarts and facing Voldemort head-on, but Luna and Dean? He didn't want anyone else risking their lives for him.

As night fell, they snuck through the countryside to the outskirts of Hogsmeade, where they carefully draped the Cloak around their shoulders. With all five of them under the Cloak, their pace was achingly slow. Hermione was right; everything up to their knees was visible under the hem of the Cloak. As they approached the village, they had to stoop to keep from being seen.

It happened when they passed by the Three Broomsticks: a shriek so loud, so close to human that Harry wondered whether it was Voldemort himself lashing out in his fury. All around them, the village came to life, lights flashing in the windows and Death Eaters pouring out of every doorway. They ducked, frantically hiding themselves from view.

" _Accio Cloak_!" One of the Death Eaters shouted. To Harry's relief, the Cloak did not fly off of their shoulders. They were safe — for now.

"Not under your wrapper, then, Potter?" The Death Eater yelled to the empty space just toward Harry's right. "Spread out," he growled to his companions. "He's here."

Six Death Eaters plunged into the streets. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Dean crept toward the shadows, each holding an end of the Cloak to keep themselves hidden for just a few seconds more. One Death Eater rushed just inches from Luna's position; she stifled a cry.

"This isn't worth it," Hermione hissed in Harry's ear. "Let's just Disapparate!"

"Great idea," Ron muttered, but he was interrupted by more jeers from the Death Eaters.

"Let the dementors have free reign, they'll find him quick enough!"

"The Dark Lord wants Potter dead by no hand but —"

"The dementors won't kill him! The Dark Lord wants Potter's life, not his soul. He'll be easier to kill if he's been Kissed first!" Murmurs of assent rose from the Death Eaters.

Harry's blood ran cold. If dementors showed up in Hogsmeade, they would be easy enough to repel among the five of them, but producing a Patronus would give them away.

"They were ready for us," he said, turning to Hermione. "They knew we would come here. They set up that spell to tell them we'd come, and they've probably done something to keep us from leaving."

"We're going to have to try to Disapparate," Hermione replied. "We can't stay under the Cloak forever."

It was now or never. Unnatural cold seeped into the winter air, sucking all the warmth as well as light from the village. The five friends gripped hands and focused hard. But they didn't move. The Death Eaters' spells had worked.

"What do we do?" Hermione whispered, her voice cracking.

From their position down a narrow side street, they saw them: ten, twelve, too many dementors to count gliding menacingly down the darkened streets, honing in on their fear. Death Eaters or not, Harry would not go down without a fight.

Pointing his wand from under the Cloak, he muttered, " _Expecto Patronum_!"

The silver stag burst from the tip of his wand, cantering toward the oncoming dementors. The Death Eaters had seen it.

"It's him, down there, down there, I saw his Patronus, it was a stag!"

Panic rose in Harry's throat. Behind him, he heard Hermione whimper and Ron curse under his breath. The dementors had retreated, but the Death Eaters were closing in. They steeled themselves for a fight, each grasping tightly at his or her own wand. Just then, the door behind them creaked open.

"Potter, in here, quick!" A voice growled. Harry didn't hesitate; he stood and charged through the dark doorway, his four friends following closely behind. He obeyed the disembodied voice ordering him up the stairs without hesitation.

They all huddled in a corner under a grimy window, the Cloak draped over their shoulders. Below them, the door slammed shut. As their eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, they recognized the place at once: the Hog's Head, where they held the first meeting of Dumbledore's Army. The man who had ushered them upstairs, then, must be the barman.

Harry strained to pick up the argument from outside. Craning his head to peer out the window, he saw the six Death Eaters surrounding the barman. The barman, however, was holding his own.

"You set off the Caterwauling Charm?" A Death Eater asked, incredulous.

"What if I did? Going to cart me off to Azkaban?" The barman waved his hands as he yelled. The Death Eaters nearest him took a step back. "I hope for your sakes you haven't pressed your little Dark Marks and summoned him. He's not going to like being called here for me and my old cat, is he, now?"

The Death Eaters looked at each other and murmured amongst themselves. "All right, we made a mistake," one said, lowering his wand ever so slightly. "But break curfew again and we won't be so lenient!" Turning on their heels, the Death Eaters strode back up the street.

Relief rushed through them. In a second, Harry yanked the curtains closed before throwing off the Cloak. Beside him, Hermione let go of her tight grip on Ron's arm. Luna leaned her head back against the wall, breathing deeply. Dean had collapsed into a rickety wooden chair.

The door to the bar banged open and the barman stomped up the stairs. "You bloody fools," he muttered, "what were you thinking, coming here?"

Harry couldn't speak. In the dim light, he could just make out the features of the man's face: wiry gray hair, dirty spectacles, and piercing blue eyes — the same eyes that had flashed in the reflection of the mirror shard he carried with him.

Hermione spoke for him. "You saved our lives," she said. "We can't thank you enough."

The old man grunted. In the silence, he turned around the room, lighting the lamps with his wand to cast the upstairs in softer light.

"It's you," Harry said.

The old man glanced at him, a quizzical look on his face.

"It's your eye I've been seeing in the mirror. You're Aberforth."

The man didn't respond, instead lighting a fire. So many questions tumbled out of Harry's mouth, but he couldn't stop himself. Everything was falling into place — the mirror shard, Dobby, even Dumbledore's cryptic cries on the night they sought Slytherin's locket in the cave. Aberforth swatted all of his questions aside, providing a clipped answer, if any at all. Hermione's questions, however, he did not ignore.

A ten-minute tirade followed when she mentioned Ariana, the girl lingering in the portrait overlooking the room. All of Harry's doubts about Dumbledore came bubbling to the surface. But it was past the point of no return. With Dumbledore dead and Voldemort now at Hogwarts, he couldn't afford to wrestle with who he thought his mentor had been.

"We need to get into Hogwarts," he said tersely. "If you can't help us, we'll wait 'til daybreak. If you can help us, now would be a great time to mention it."

Surprisingly, Aberforth got up from his chair. Approaching the portrait of Ariana, he muttered, "you know what to do."

Harry's jaw dropped. Ariana had smiled, turned, and disappeared into her portrait — but not as portraits usually did. She seemed to be walking down a long, narrow tunnel.

"There's only one way in now," Aberforth said.

Harry watched, incredulous, as Ariana appeared once again, though this time accompanied by a tall figure. As they neared the portrait frame, Hermione gasped. The portrait swung on its hinges. Out of the darkened space climbed Neville Longbottom, who, despite his cut face and ripped robes, was grinning from ear to ear.

"It's you! It's really you!"

Their homecoming was sweet but short. As Neville caught them up on the previous year at Hogwarts, Harry discovered it was worse than he thought. Those who remained in the D.A. had faced torture even worse than when the school was under Umbridge's rule. It didn't take long for him to catch Neville up on their past year, either — and their plans.

"Once we're inside the school, we can start finding the remaining relics," Harry said. "We have Slytherin's locket and Gryffindor's sword. All we're missing is…" He turned to Hermione for confirmation.

"Hufflepuff's goblet and Ravenclaw's diadem," she finished.

"The first place we'll look is the Room of Requirement," Harry continued. "But as long as we're inside the school grounds, we're one step closer to finding those relics."

Hermione couldn't bring herself to correct him. Ravenclaw's diadem might be in Hogwarts, but she wasn't certain. What she did know is that Hufflepuff's goblet was resting in the darkest corner in the deepest chamber of Gringotts, guarded by a dragon and all manner of dark hexes that Bellatrix Lestrange had at her disposal. Once again, she couldn't bring herself to look at her friends, who were beginning to fill with hope. She could see their bright eyes and brighter smiles as they huddled around the fire. She felt sick. But explaining how she knew where the relic was, that was a story she couldn't tell. The information was too secret, too specific for her to lie and say she had overheard somewhere. At least she held onto the hope that they would be safer inside Hogwarts than here outside it.

She couldn't have been more wrong.


	4. Six Years Ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six years ago, Voldemort gave Hermione a mission: Find Harry Potter, befriend him, and ensure the Death Eaters never lose sight of him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, sorry for the hiatus! The final chapters are coming soon. Leave a comment and let me know what you think.

She couldn't remember much of her childhood. Hermione had been four when her parents had been snatched by Death Eaters, and from then on she had lived at a rich family's house — Malfoy Manor.

What she could remember, besides brief bittersweet meetings with her parents on her birthday, were the lessons: torturous hours spent with Death Eaters who taught her the art of deception and the means of inflicting pain. Sometimes it was Bellatrix Lestrange herself, a talented witch but terrifying fiend.

But in every lesson, mention of a prophecy was drilled into her head about a boy born in July who would be Voldemort's ultimate downfall. Harry Potter, the boy who had killed the Dark Lord as a baby in his crib.

It was her job to find this boy at Hogwarts.

And it was her job to mark him with magic so the Death Eaters would never lose him again.

When she turned eleven and received her first Hogwarts letter — along with the Malfoy boy, she had remembered bitterly — she was elated. For the first time in her life, she would be able to escape the Death Eaters and be free of the dreary manor for a whole year. The Death Eaters would be checking in with her, of course, to check her progress on finding and befriending the boy.

Finding Harry would not a problem. Befriending him would be the challenge.

She couldn't believe her luck, then, that on the very first day that the very first person she met gave her the perfect excuse to meet everyone in her class. A boy named Neville had lost his toad on the train, and only she went to his aid — which just so happened to mean searching every compartment of the Hogwarts Express.

It wasn't until she had reached one of the last compartments on the train that stumbled onto her new best friend.

"Has anyone seen a toad?" She asked to the two boys sitting in the compartment. "Neville's lost one."

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," the red-headed boy whined. He was sitting surrounded by sweet wrappers, a rat sleeping in his lap and a wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic?" She asked, sitting down beside the black-haired boy opposite him. "Let's see it, then."

"Er — all right." He cleared his throat, tapped on the rat, and muttered, "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

Nothing happened.

Hermione smirked. "Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me." _Only because Bellatrix would punish me if they didn't_ , she didn't add.

"Nobody in my family's magic at all," she continued, "it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard."

It was true. The Malfoys had not stopped talking about Hogwarts since she first stepped over the threshold. If anything, the Malfoy boy had talked about the school more after receiving his letter. He was furious when he learned that the "mudblood girl," as he called her, had received one, too.

"I've learned all our course books by heart, of course," she continued excitedly, "I just hope it will be enough — I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

"I'm Ron Weasley," the red-haired boy muttered.

"Harry Potter," said the boy sitting beside her.

Hermione gaped at him. "Are you really? I know all about you of course."

She stopped herself before revealing where she had heard about him. It wouldn't be good at all to blow her cover so early in her first mission for the Dark Lord.

"I got a few extra books for background reading," she added quickly, "and you're in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_." All of these books she had read, of course; the Malfoys had an extensive library.

"Am I?" Harry looked dazed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me. Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad."

_As long as it's far away from Malfoy and his nasty Slytherin house_ , she thought. "Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

As she left the compartment with Neville, she couldn't believe her luck. Not even at Hogwarts and already she had made three new friends, including her target: Harry Potter.

But it seems she hadn't been fortunate, after all. Harry and Ron hated her. Despite her every attempt to be their friend — sitting next to them in the Great Hall, trying to answer Professor Snape's questions for them during their first Potions class, giving them tips about flying and charms and school rules, hiding them from Filch — they brushed her off.

Worse, they were mean to her, just like Malfoy.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," she overheard Ron say after Charms one day. "She's a nightmare, honestly."

_I've failed. They'll never be my friends. And I'll never see my parents again_. Tears streaming down her face, Hermione fled to the girls' bathroom, where she was sure to be alone. The bathroom was haunted, after all; a girl named Myrtle had died there nearly fifty years ago, and every girl in the school avoided the bathroom. But even Myrtle didn't want anything to do with Hermione.

Her first year wasn't going well at all.

So when the troll stumbled into the girls' bathroom, Hermione was terrified, but she was hardly surprised that things would continue to get worse.

"Confuse it!" Came a shout from the entrance to the bathroom.

"Oy, pea-brain!"

Hermione blinked. Behind the troll, two boys had come barging into the bathrooms. She could hardly believe her eyes — it was Harry and Ron!

Harry was shouting at her. "Come on, run, run!"

She couldn't move. The troll was towering over her, a massive, smelly mountain of a creature with a club about as long as she was tall. It roared at Ron, who had thrown a pipe at its shoulder. Seeing that his best friend was now cornered, Harry turned away from Hermione and jumped at the troll, managing to wrap his arms around the creature's neck.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_!" Ron shouted. He'd said the spell right, she noticed: the troll's club floated above them all, gracefully somersaulted, and then, with a crash, fell onto the troll's tiny head.

Hermione didn't move for some time. "Is it… dead?" She squeaked from her spot in the corner.

"I don't think so," Harry said, breathing hard. "I think it's just been knocked out."

And just like that, Hermione's horrible year righted itself.

Her friendship with Ron and Harry had come at a cost — she had lost Gryffindor five house points and had tarnished her squeaky-clean reputation among the professors — but she had made friends, all the same.

And she was one step closer to freeing her parents from the clutches of the Dark Lord.


	5. The Battle Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With You-Know-Who now at Hogwarts, the wizarding world prepares for war. Harry, Ron, and Hermione race to find the rest of the magical relics before they fall into the hands of the Death Eaters.

It was a risk searching the Room of Requirement for Ravenclaw's diadem. Not many of the D.A. were thrilled to flee their sanctuary, but somehow Harry, Ron, and Hermione convinced them to rally the rest of the school, the remaining members of the Order, anyone who would help them defeat Voldemort. Half of the D.A. snuck back to the common rooms, and the other half trekked through the tunnel to the Hog's Head.

An hour and a half passed before Hermione stumbled upon the diadem, collecting dust on a stone bust that was wearing an equally dusty wig.

"Now to find Hufflepuff's cup," Harry said, watching Hermione hide the diadem at the bottom of her beaded bag.

"What are we going to do once we find them all?" Ron asked, starting back for the entrance.

"Hide them where no one, not even You-Know-Who, can find them," she said simply.

"But isn't the Room of Requirement—"

"You-Know-Who already knows about it," Harry said, surprising even himself.

"What?" Ron and Hermione said in unison.

"He hid the diadem in the castle, the night he asked Dumbledore to let him teach. It all makes sense! He must've hidden the diadem on his way up to, or down from, Dumbledore's office!"

"Brilliant, Harry!" Ron said, clapping him on the back.

Harry felt exhilarated for the first time in months. With one Horcrux— _relic_ , he corrected himself—left, they were one step closer to defeating Voldemort once and for all.

His excitement turned to dread when they stepped back into the corridor.

The walls shook, dust fell from the ceiling, and students and professors were racing up and down the corridors. Ron grabbed the nearest first-year.

"What's going on?"

The first-year's wide eyes said it all. "It's You-Know-Who. He's back. The Death Eaters are coming!" He wriggled out of Ron's grip as another BOOM shook the castle.

"The D.A.," Hermione gasped. "We have to open up the Room of Requirement. They have to get into the castle."

The trio paced frantically back and forth past the Room of Requirement, darting into the room as soon as the door appeared. Minutes later, Neville crawled through the tunnel with Kingsley, Lupin, Oliver Wood, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Bill and Fleur, Fred and George, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley trailing behind.

Everyone rallied around Harry, throwing out a volley of questions: "What's going on?" "What's happening?" "Are we fighting?"

Harry looked helplessly at the crowd penning him on all sides.

"Everyone, evacuate the younger kids and meet in the Great Hall to get organized!" Neville called from behind Harry. "We're fighting."

The crowd surged forward, and Harry stepped out of the way. A mix of Order of the Phoenix members, Dumbledore's Army, Harry's old Quidditch team, and a few people Harry didn't know ran past him on their way out the door. Harry threw a grateful look over his shoulder at Neville, who nodded before darting out after the crowd.

As the crowd thinned, Harry spied Ginny talking animatedly with her parents and brothers. The argument quickly boiled into an all-out shouting match, with Ginny yelling fervently about wanting to stay and fight. All of a sudden, silence fell. And out from the portrait hole stepped Percy.

The entire room seemed to hold its breath while the Weasleys stood face to face with the prodigal member of the family. It was so still that Harry practically jumped when Hermione tapped him on the shoulder.

"Harry," she whispered, "we have to go."

"Oh. Right. We still need Hufflepuff's cup." He stepped forward and pulled Ron aside, who was rooted to the spot watching Fred and George toss insult after insult on their brother.

"Where do we start?" Harry asked after the three stepped out into the corridor. He and Ron turned to Hermione.

"I—I don't know," she stammered. "But I read about a place that was special to Helga Hufflepuff. There's an old barn near the castle grounds where she used to keep unicorns."

"You think the cup is somewhere in there?" Ron asked.

"I don't know. But it's worth a try."

Harry and Ron let Hermione lead the way through the damaged corridors, past skirmishes that had broken out between Death Eaters and professors, through crowds of dead and injured on both sides. It was all Harry could do to keep up, much less fight against another glimpse into Voldemort's mind. But he kept going.

After emerging from a hole in the castle wall and racing across the grass, they finally found the ancient ruins of the old barn Hermione had been talking about. Taking a look around, Hermione quietly opened the massive door and stepped inside. Harry and Ron followed.

They found themselves inside a decrepit, dusty, cavernous barn. Swallowed in darkness, the space looked more like a cave than a barn, with only a few beams of light piercing the darkness from holes in the roof. In the center of the main aisle was a small wooden table, and gleaming in the light of one of these sunbeams was a golden goblet.

Hermione swore under her breath.

"Bloody hell, Hermione," Ron said, smirking. "I didn't think you had it in you—"

"Not now, Ron," she hissed. "We have to get out of here."

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Harry asked. "Isn't that—?"

"You kids look like yer lookin' for sum'tin," a voice croaked from behind them. All three jumped and whirled around. Standing in the doorway was an old man stooped at the waist and leaning on a pitchfork. They couldn't make out his face in the shadows.

"Just having a look around," Harry replied.

"I'm the caretaker of tha' place," the man continued. "Yeh want a look, talk to me."

"We were just leaving, actually," Hermione said between clenched teeth. Her hands were balled into fists and her knuckles were white. Her wand twitched in her tight grip.

The man sniffed, coughed, and spat out a wad of phlegm at their feet. The trio took a step back.

"Unicorns," the man grinned, showing his missing teeth. "They're hard ter capture. Only 'elga 'ufflepuff was able ter—and then only the sick an' injured ones she kept 'ere." He motioned to the ancient building over their heads.

"Fascinating," Harry said tersely, throwing a glance at Hermione. Something was very wrong.

"Yer a curious lot, aren't yeh? Looking for 'ufflepuff's cup? Lemme take yeh to it."

The man shuffled toward them. Instinctively, Harry and Ron took a step back further into the darkness. Hermione, however, stayed rooted to the spot.

"Not scared, are yeh, girlie?" The old man chuckled. "Yer either very brave or very foolish. Which one's it gonna be?"

"Hermione?" Ron called. "What's wrong?"

Harry hit the wall before he realized Hermione had even cast a spell. Dazed, he blinked at Ron, who had landed hard on the dirt floor beside him. A flurry of curses rained down from the rafters, but they all ricocheted off Hermione's Shield Charm.

"Hermione!" Harry yelled. "What's happening?"

"It's a trap," she called over her shoulder, blocking another volley of curses. The old man had landed on the ground near the table and was crawling back toward his pitchfork, casting curses over his shoulder as he inched further away from Hermione.

"Death Eaters?" Ron asked.

"Worse!"

Harry glanced at Ron, who gulped. What could be worse than what they were already facing?

A flash of white light hit Hermione from behind. Her arms and legs snapped together, and she fell face-down onto the barn floor. Before Harry and Ron could utter a defensive spell, their wands flew out of their hands and thicks ropes encircled them like snakes. Two Death Eaters stepped out of the shadows, their wands raised. The old man grinned as he stood to his feet.

A triumphant cackle pierced the fray.

"Itty bitty baby Potter," Bellatrix Lestrange laughed, stepping inside the barn. "Come to die, have we?"


	6. The Dark Lord Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Ron, and Hermione come face to face with the Dark Lord, who unveils the traitor in their midst.

"Hermione Granger," Bellatrix crowed as she sauntered into the dying light. "As always, a disappointing failure!"

"Hermione!" Ron yelled, struggling against the restraints. Despite being thrown into the air, Ron had somehow managed to hold onto his wand; Harry saw his lying on the barn floor under a thick layer of dust.

With a flick of her wand, Bellatrix yanked Hermione off the floor. Harry saw Hermione's face frozen in terror with tears trickling down her dirty cheeks.

"At least now I have you right where I want you. _Crucio_!" Bellatrix shrieked. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, unable to do anything under the effects of the Full Body-Bind. A cacophony of jeers and laughter rained down from the rafters above them.

"HERMIONE!" Ron shouted. " _Expelliarmus_!"

Bellatrix's wand flew out of her hand, and she rounded on Ron, her mad grin replaced with a grimace. Hermione dropped to the floor, still stiff as a board. Harry thought she looked even more terrified now that Bellatrix's attention was on Ron, but he couldn't be sure; her face was partially hidden in shadow.

"Blood traitor," Bellatrix sneered. "You're next to Mudblood in my book. Yaxley, my wand!"

A Death Eater melted out of the shadows and approached Bellatrix slowly and solemnly. He held her wand in both hands and bowed slightly, as if he were in the presence of royalty. Bellatrix snatched it from him and dug the point under Ron's chin.

"You'll pay for what you did to Hermione," Ron muttered. " _Finite_!"

With a gasp, Hermione shook off the Full Body-Bind curse and scrambled to her feet, wand raised.

"Drop it, Granger," Bellatrix hissed, "or the blood traitor dies!"

"Don't listen to her, Hermione!"

" _Crucio_!"

Ron screamed in pain, but Hermione stood her ground. "Bellatrix, you vile—!"

"Ah, I've taught you well," Bellatrix sneered. "Fearless despite the circumstances. Were you of pure blood, you would make an excellent Death Eater. You might even have succeeded me."

"What's she talking about?" Ron croaked.

"You haven't told them?" Bellatrix stepped toward Hermione. "You mean they don't know about—?"

"Know what?" Harry shouted, still trying to wriggle free of the ropes ensnaring him. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied six Death Eaters peering down from the rafters. They were surrounded.

"Your Mudblood friend here," Bellatrix cackled, circling Hermione like a hungry vulture, "is a traitor—a spy for the Dark Lord!"

Ron laughed. "Hermione? A spy? No way."

"Tell them, Granger."

Harry glanced at Ron, then at Hermione. "It's not true, is it, Hermione?"

She slowly lowered her wand. Behind her, Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters howled with laughter.

"Tell them, Granger, how you've been working for us all along!" A voice called from the shadows.

"Playing the spy to keep mommy and daddy alive…" Another crooned.

"We had such fun with your parents," Yaxley said with a sneer. "They screamed and screamed and screamed…"

"Stop it," Hermione mumbled. "Just stop it!" She lowered her wand and squeezed her eyes shut. "Let my friends go, and you can do what you like with me."

"You know that was never part of the plan," Bellatrix said, breaking into a toothy grin.

"Hermione, how could you?" Ron hissed. "I thought we were friends!"

"How does it feel, Granger, losing the ones you loved the most? Only your unwavering loyalty to the Dark Lord could save them—and you failed."

"I did everything you asked—"

"Ha!" Bellatrix screamed, sparks flying from her wand. Even though her face was obscured by shadow, Harry could see her eyes burn. "Everything I asked? Filthy Mudblood, you failed me so many times it's a wonder I kept your parents alive as long as I did. But I needed the boy," she said, motioning to Harry, "and so I was lenient. That's a mistake I'll never make again."

"My parents—?"

"Are dead. Left to rot in a cave somewhere. That's what happens when you cross the Dark Lord."

Hermione's knees gave way and she dropped in a heap on the floor. While Bellatrix savored the moment, Harry tried to catch Ron's eye. This was bad. They had to come up with a plan, and fast. But Ron was staring, half in shock and half in rage, at Hermione.

"Now your traitorous face will be the last that they ever see," Bellatrix rasped, motioning to Harry and Ron. "Yaxley, bring me Potter. And kill the spare."

"Not Ron, please, Bellatrix—!"

" _Avada Kedavra_!" Yaxley shouted, and a bolt of green light shot out from his wand. Ron crumpled and dropped to the floor as the ropes binding him disappeared.

"RON!" Harry yelled, scrambling to pick himself up. Before he could grab his wand, Yaxley yanked him back and shoved him at Bellatrix's feet.

" _Crucio_!" A toothy grin spread across her face as Bellatrix watch Harry convulse on the dirt floor. "The 'Chosen One'!" She cackled, practically dancing around him. The Death Eaters around her laughed; Hermione could only watch in horror.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered. "I… I had no choice. They had my parents..."

One, two, three times Bellatrix cast the Cruciatus Curse on Harry, finally relenting to lean over his still frame.

"You may have defeated Voldemort as a child," Bellatrix purred, "but I, the Dark Lord, leader of the Death Eaters, daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black—I will finish what he started!"

Harry snapped his eyes open. After all this time, Voldemort was Bellatrix Lestrange? His visions had been Tom Riddle's—hadn't they? But if Riddle had not survived after trying to kill Harry, then who had he seen rising from the dead in the graveyard during the Triwizard Tournament? "How?" Was all he managed to ask.

"'How'? It was genius of my own design! After you killed Voldemort as a baby in your crib, I took his place as the immortal Dark Lord. While I gathered followers, I recruited Mudbloods and blood traitors like Granger to be my eyes and ears around Hogwarts. And the information I learned…" She cackled.

"When I heard Dumbledore was entertaining the idea of Horcruxes, it was easy enough to continue the ruse that Voldemort would rise again. In fact, the scene in the graveyard—a powerful false memory, courtesy of your Mudblood friend!"

"Hermione?" Harry asked weakly. "Tell me you didn't."

"It's true, it's all true," she sobbed. "Harry, I'm so sorry—"

"And now that I have you in my grasp, I can finally kill you and become invincible. After all, what does the prophecy say? 'Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.'"

At hearing the prophecy once again, something within Harry snapped. He snatched Hermione's wand out of the dirt and leapt to his feet, staggering but staying upright. " _Expelliarmus_!" The wand flew out of Bellatrix's grip and landed in his awaiting hand.

"Harry, no!"

Harry pointed Bellatrix's wand at its owner, but Bellatrix merely grinned.

"Do it, Potter," she croaked. "Kill me and I guarantee neither of you will walk out of here alive."

Months of searching for Horcruxes, learning about Tom Riddle's past, constantly looking over his shoulder, watching people he loved die at the hands of Death Eaters—all of it had been in vain. Whether he lived or died, he was going to make sure his fight counted for something.

"I don't care that Hermione was spying for you. I don't care that you took Voldemort's place as the Dark Lord and hid it from the Wizarding world. I don't want anyone else to die for me." He took a breath and lowered Bellatrix's wand, tossing Hermione's at her feet. "It's got to be you and me."

Bellatrix smirked and raised her hand. The Death Eaters surrounding her all lowered their wands. "As you wish, Potter," she said.

" _Accio wand_ ," Harry said, and his wand flew into his hand. He took a few steps backward before tossing Bellatrix hers.

"Granger," Bellatrix barked, "move out of the way."

She nodded meekly, standing and casting one last look at Harry.

"It's okay, Hermione," Harry said, giving her a reassuring nod. "We'll be—"

Before he had a chance to react, a flash of green light hit him square in the chest. Harry crumpled and landed face-down into the dirt, shattering his glasses and splintering his wand in the fall.

"HARRY!" Hermione screamed, racing to her best friend's side. Behind her, Bellatrix practically danced with glee. The rest of the Death Eaters stepped out of the shadows; their work was done. Harry Potter had died at the hands of the Dark Lord, and now she could not be killed—or so the Death Eaters thought.

There was only one way to find out.

Hermione rose and stood in the last rays of sunlight trickling into the ruins. It wasn't until a phoenix of white-hot fire erupted from her wand that Bellatrix and the Death Eaters turned toward their former spy.

"You killed my parents. You killed my friends. Now you're going to pay," she murmured. And the phoenix engulfed the barn in Fiendfyre.


	7. Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only one walks away from the fight.

The roar of the flames was deafening and the heat unbearable, but Hermione stood her ground. The phoenix of fire descended on the Death Eaters and engulfed them in seconds, taking the bodies of Harry and Ron along with them.

Only Bellatrix survived, but just barely; her panicked cry of " _Partis Temporus_!" had escaped just as the Fiendfyre had erupted from Hermione's wand.

Smoke and ash swirled around the two witches as they faced each other between two walls of fire. Behind them, the inferno raced across the knee-high grass between the ruins of the barn and the castle, where the battle raged on. It was only a matter of time before the Fiendfyre engulfed everything in its wake.

Bellatrix cackled, her eyes glinting in the firelight. "I knew you were powerful, Granger," she rasped, "but I never thought you were capable of such dark magic."

Hermione said nothing, concentrating instead on the silent charm protecting her from the demise of her own design.

"You thought a simple spell could kill me?" Bellatrix taunted. "Ha! The prophecy has been fulfilled. I have killed Harry Potter! And no one—not even you, Mudblood—can kill me now."

But as the wall of flame crept closer, Hermione saw Bellatrix's cocky grin falter.

"The Dark Lord triumphs once again! Such a pity you're not of pure blood, Granger. You would have made a great successor. Turning against your friends, killing my Death Eaters, using dark magic too advanced for even accomplished wizards…" Bellatrix motioned with her free hand to the burning ruins around them. "After what you've done, no righteous witch or wizard will take your side again."

Hermione lowered her wand, and the flames died down around her. Bellatrix was right. Killing the Death Eaters hadn't been the worst of her crimes. She had betrayed her friends, lured others into traps, and helped the Dark Lord rise to power. And it had all started with the choices she made as a little girl—out of desperation and hopelessness.

"With my Death Eaters gone, I'll need someone to take their place," Bellatrix said, sauntering over where Hermione stood frozen amid piles of ash. "Join me as an ally, and I promise you will not be harmed." The evil glint in her eyes had returned.

Hermione shut her eyes, blinking back tears that were threatening to fall. _An ally_ , she thought. _Bellatrix wants me as an ally_. After years slaving under the Dark Lord, fighting to free her parents, Hermione had lost it all. Her parents and friends were gone, and after all she'd done, the wizarding world would cast her out without a second thought. Nothing Bellatrix could offer would change that.

"It's too late for that now," Hermione murmured. " _Avada Kedavra_."

Green light burst from her wand, and Bellatrix keeled over, sending up a cloud of ash and dust. Without another look at the destruction she had created, Hermione sauntered out of the smoldering ruins and up the hill, leaving the castle grounds behind her.

Screams and spells pierced the dawn, echoing off the hillside that Hermione climbed one slow step at a time. When she reached the summit, Hermione turned to watch the sun as it spilled over her former home.

Bodies littered the castle grounds. Whose side they belonged to, Hermione couldn't tell. In the distance, fire crackled and the castle walls crumbled, while the nearby ruins of the barn smoldered.

Nine people had died by Hermione's hand. Who knew how many others had been killed because of her actions? But she knew one thing for certain: she had become what she feared most.

Hermione Granger had become the Dark Lord.


End file.
